


the heart's promotion

by MiniInfinity



Series: emotion [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, mentions of verkwan and jeonghan in here too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 21:16:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11859828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiniInfinity/pseuds/MiniInfinity
Summary: Seokmin revives Soonyoung through all of these years.the other side ofthe brain's demotion





	the heart's promotion

**Author's Note:**

> in other words, this is [the brain's demotion](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11228781) but in seokmin's pov, so it would be more helpful (and easier to understand what's going on) to read that first, then this one. but i guess there's nothing stopping you from reading this one first lmao  
> 

"Will you be there when I graduate?"  
  
Seokmin stashes a bouquet of flowers, neat spreads of yellows and blues under folds of tissue wrappers and clear cellophane, at his side of the room, somewhere tucked in his bottom drawer of the nightstand. He leans back, peeks at Soonyoung running a hand over his damp hair.  
  
"Graduation is in seven hours," Soonyoung's voice deflates, when Seokmin thought he would be excited for this day, to finally leave the walls of university waving a degree in his hand.  
  
Seokmin walks up to Soonyoung, knocks his shoulder against the shorter's until he loses his balance and nearly falls onto the toilet seat, if it wasn't for Seokmin's hands so ready to grab for him. Soonyoung doesn't say anything, but the eye bags start to carve deeper into his skin. He lifts a hand and runs his own digits through Soonyoung's hair, hopes the anxiety wears away, and Soonyoung tilts his head a little to the side, lets his palms drag down to the shorter's cheek. "After graduation, you'll be a university graduate and you can start teaching people how to dance," Seokmin assures him, with his hand still lingering on his face, thumbing a smile that starts from the corner of his lips. When Soonyoung's hands make their way to his wrinkled necktie, still left untouched and smooth, Seokmin eyes the tangled mess under his neck and swats his hands away from making this an even greater choking hazard. "You've been tying these for years and yet, you suddenly forget?" he giggles as he does the last couple of buttons on Soonyoung's dress shirt before taking the two dangling ends of the necktie. "Let me do it for you."  
  
Seokmin doesn't mention Soonyoung's eyes always hovering straight for his lips.  
  
  
After what Seokmin should have called breakfast, he grabs the air horn he bought from the dollar store on his way home from classes one night and wiggles it right in front of Soonyoung's face. "Let me try this."  
  
Soonyoung's lips part and Seokmin worries about his eyes rolling out of their sockets as he starts to make a steal for the horn in Seokmin's hand. But Seokmin lifts it high above his head and Soonyoung needs to prop firm grip on Seokmin's shoulder to jump higher for the canister.  
  
"I won't be able to graduate if you sneak this in there," Soonyoung warns him between every couple of jumps or so.  
  
Seokmin thinks Soonyoung never thought about stepping on the bed to grab the horn, but the genius idea is thrown out the window when Soonyoung accidentally hops on Seokmin's toes and they fall back on the mattress, chuckles tipping from their lips and making this morning brighter. Seokmin turns to Soonyoung on the sheets, pouts because he really wants to know how loud it can be and maybe if he screams loud enough, he can be just as loud as the horn. Maybe he wouldn't have to bring it in, after all.  
  
He hears Soonyoung sigh and shuffle off to somewhere and when Seokmin sits up, Soonyoung's back faces him and he throws the window open, turns back to Seokmin, and stretches a palm towards the air outside, three stories above the ground. Seokmin hurries to the window and holds the horn tight in both hands.  
  
"You know," Soonyoungs starts as Seokmin rips the last pieces of plastic wrapping, "if the neighbors file a complaint and we get kicked out of the apartment, it's all your fault."  
  
"I know," Seokmin's smile holds something closer to evil than acknowledgement. "That's why you're here with me."  
  
Not even a split second passes between Seokmin's last words and the quick pinch of the air horn that sends a blare piercing through the air. It takes a lot of Seokmin's will to just not scream right after the fading echoes of the horn wears off into the distance. He watches, from above, a small boy jumping into the air and an older girl wobbling in a bike next to him. Birds flit from the tree at their window in a flashing line of black specks and one particular bird starts to fall from a branch before regaining some air and some of its conscience.  
  
"I hate you, Lee Seokmin," Soonyoung mutters as he quickly shuts the windows before someone down below discovers the canister and its obnoxiously red horn in Seokmin's hands.  
  
\----  
  
"My first performance is in two weeks. Can you come?"  
  
Seokmin wonders why Soonyoung is even asking him in the first place, but he whispers into the phone, "Of course," but he wishes Soonyoung is here at home with him, somewhere safe where he can let all of his worries stretch under comforting sheets and share across Seokmin's own palms.  
  
\----  
  
"Will you be there in the room? When I audition?"  
  
"I'll be there, Seokmin. Look for me, okay?"  
  
His heart sinks fast to the pit of his stomach when he can't concentrate on remembering the last words of the song. He wipes at what he hopes are his last tears before he goes up with the back of his hand, remembering not the lyrics but Soonyoung's words just moments ago. Even if he doesn't pass this one audition, he can learn from this first one and bring himself even stronger for a next one. And he believes Soonyoung.  
  
His number places him near the front of the rows of chairs, jittery teenagers and young adults also looking towards the same dream. When he sits down, his legs start to bounce from nervousness and he lifts a hand to start biting his nail, but the nagging voice of Soonyoung's displeasure hits him when his fingertip sticks millimeters away from his lips.  
  
When his number rings into the audition room, he stands up too quickly and pauses to orient himself, to let the ground stay at the right spot under his feet. He stands on the small stage, in front of a table of judges, and catches a bright pink light at the corner of his vision, far off to the entrance doors.  
  
_Lee Seokmin_  with a heart drawn in neon lights, drops of pink against a black board, under Soonyoung's hands and above a smile he last saw when he announced his GPA for the school year, counting off all the credits in his transcript, when Seokmin managed to hit the high note early on his practices.  
  
Soonyoung's voice rises pitches higher than usual when he cheers, "Lee Seokmin!" all the way through the audition room.  
  
Seokmin's heart starts to float lighter in his chest and he places his palm right over the slowing beats and sings.  
  
\----  
  
Seokmin sits at the doctor's office, waiting the door to open again and his name to be called again. The last time he was here, Soonyoung teased him for whining about receiving the seasonal flu shot and offered to buy ice cream if Seokmin didn't cry or hold his hand in a bone-breaking grasp.  
  
Centuries pass through his fingertips--not really, but youth sheds off like a second skin and his fists tremble on his lap at an age too young to meet him. Mingyu runs a palm over his back and lifts a handkerchief to his eyes, whispers assurances that almost seem futile at this point.  
  
  
Later that night, before he goes to bed, Soonyoung's voice flashes bright through the speaker of his phone, "My dance studio is having its grand opening next week. Do you want to see it?"  
  
"Of course," Seokmin whispers, robs a glance at the calendar for his next doctor appointment, "I'll be right next to you when you cut the ribbon."  
  
\----  
  
The circled date on his calendar clutches so mercilessly at his throat, and when he steps into the doctor's office again with Mingyu by his side, the sigh ghosting down the white coat crushes the grip even more.  
  
  
He begs Mingyu to stay with him at his apartment for a while, just this one night, so Mingyu sinks at the couch, head in his hands, and waits for Soonyoung's call.  
  
Seokmin breathes steadily, asking once and then twice if Mingyu can tell that he was crying earlier. Mingyu shakes his head when Seokmin smiles, blinks remaining tears from his eyes, and coughs long and hard.  
  
"Soonyoung," Seokmin deflates. He stands up from the couch to head for their room, not bothering to turn the light on because the morning light from thousands of miles away seems to be doing just fine in lighting his face. At least, Soonyoung won't see much of the redness in his eyes this way. He falls right across the bed and buries the side of his face into the pillow.  
  
"I'll be coming home soon," he reminds him, and Seokmin glances back at the calendar on the wall.  _One doctor appointment left before Soonyoung returns home_ , is the only thing that Seokmin registers. "Will you be there when I arrive at the airport?" Seokmin nods against the cushions as Soonyoung asks further, "Will you be there to kiss me when I see you for the first time in months, like they do in movies?"  
  
"Why are you so cheesy?" Seokmin grins. Soonyoung puckers his lips and Seokmin wonders if he will have the strength to even grab Soonyoung's collar or even lean closer to him.  
  
\----  
  
"Will you be there at my graduation?"  
  
Seokmin peeks at Soonyoung ironing his dress shirt at the window of their bedroom, flattening a palm over every crease that disappears before him. Seokmin pulls his gown from the hanger in the closet and throws it on, wonders if the aches in his entire body should be there. His fingers fumble to straighten everything in his gown, but he pulls it off after deciding that he should be fixing it before he walks across the stage.  
  
"Of course." He wonders when Soonyoung stepped right in front of him, but the thought fades off when Soonyoung tiptoes and lifts a kiss onto his lips. He turns back to Soonyoung ironing black slacks this time and hurries over, rests his chin on Soonyoung's shoulder.  
  
What if he really does trip on stage? What if he trips  _off_  the stage? Seokmin presses his lips at the junction of Soonyoung's shoulder and hums a tune, breathes a melody across Soonyoung's skin. "What if I trip when they call my name?"  
  
"I'll yell for you so hard that they'll escort me off the university."  
  
Seokmin tries to hide the pain shooting at his ribs when he laughs, exhales a snort instead.  
  
\----  
  
Soonyoung swings their hands into the air as they walk down the sidewalk, and a lot of Seokmin's strength goes to not telling him to stop because Soonyoung really likes holding his hand and Seokmin really likes swinging it back and forth.  
  
Soonyoung pushes his sunglasses up by the bridge. "Will you be there on our wedding day?"  
  
Seokmin rolls his eyes, shoves Soonyoung's arm a tap. "Well, duh, I  _am_  the other half getting married."  
  
"Are you going to cry when we kiss or while you're still putting your suit on?"  
  
Seokmin shakes his head, hopes that he also shakes the brewing sting of tears breaching right at his eyes, and tries to swing their hands as high as he can without startling the ache in his arm. "Maybe when we saw our vows?" he lies. "So in between both?"  
  
  
Seokmin wonders if his lie is really a lie, because when he's sitting in the dressing room with Mingyu's eyes holding sorrow like Seokmin can really, physically, emotionally shatter at any second, Seokmin shakes in the sharp inhale, lets his throat burn cold and his back ache. "I can't-I can't even button my shirt," Seokmin stumbles in between a crashing slew of wavering gasps.  
  
Mingyu kneels in front of him, brushes Seokmin's hands back down to his lap, and undoes each button slowly. Seokmin catches Mingyu's jaws tightening and he lifts his hands to Mingyu's cheeks when a tear stains golden skin so easily, too easily.

Mingyu's lips part and everything collapses at that second. Seokmin's hands drop, hold onto the collars of Mingyu's pale blue dress shirt, and doesn't think, at first, about wrinkling his suit. He looks down at his trembling hands, realizes that there is nothing to worry about when it comes to ruining Mingyu's clothes, because the grip he's been trying to keep tight barely arises a few creases.  
  
He wonders when the air dropped some degrees in the dressing room as Mingyu wraps his arms around him, a harsh flush of the chill air across his exposed chest when Mingyu stopped buttoning his shirt.  
  
"We just gotta get through today, okay? Make Soonyoung happy."  
  
"I love him," Seokmin's voice speaks a few diminishing volumes at a time. "I really do-"  
  
His mind strips down to the Soonyoung in the other dressing room at the end of the hall, probably tearing up for the opposite reasons, chatting away with Wonwoo about last minute revises of his vows. He pictures Soonyoung, with his bangs still flat over his forehead instead of a promised style, leaning over a table with a pen in his hand and a scowl at his eyebrows. Wonwoo must be repeating the written words over and over again, popping in suggestion after suggestion of how to convey this emotion and that promise in a way that is completely not how Soonyoung would have thought.  
  
Curse all of the books Wonwoo read. Seokmin wishes Wonwoo was here, instead. Maybe he read a book about breaking bad news.  
  
\----  
  
Nowadays, when Seokmin falls across the sheets, he sleeps facing Soonyoung. He always sleeps facing Soonyoung. So when Soonyoung turns to him, his eyes trace outlines of his husband's body that his hands can't do anymore. From the lethargy in his eyes, down to the crinkle of his nose, lower to his lips mouthing something at him.  
  
Except Soonyoung's lips aren't just moving. His voice escapes, too.  
  
"Will you be there when I can't sleep?" drags from Soonyoung's throat, all sleep trying to take his voice down one decibel, one syllable at a time. Soonyoung asks the same question, Seokmin realizes. He wonders why he still asks, but he knows that if Soonyoung knew, he would be asking the same question every night. So Seokmin simply nods. "Can you sing for me?"  
  
\----  
  
27 December 2023; 00:03  
  
Seokmin sits at the edge of Soonyoung's bed, right next to his desk so that Soonyoung can do a maintenance check on him so close to his familiar spot. The back of Seokmin's arm unlatches down the center, and the scrunch of Soonyoung's eyebrows can mean that he is worried about Seokmin's arm rising five degrees Celsius more than the safe range.  
  
Soonyoung picks up a blue wire from Seokmin's arm, dropping it at the second's touch and fanning his fingers out, and it usually means that it's hot, whatever he touched. It's too hot to hold, so Soonyoung fans his hand to release some of the heat. Dipping his hand in cold water would be better, if Soonyoung just wants his fingers to drop some more degrees.  
  
"Soonyoung, it's been nineteen hours and thirty-four minutes since you last slept," Seokmin reminds him. "Or closed your eyes for at least five minutes."  
  
Soonyoung sighs. He doesn't look at Seokmin, instead concentrated on his arm. "Just one more string, okay? Then I'm done for the night."  
  
"You said that twenty-six strings ago, though."  
  
Seokmin pouts when Soonyoung glares at him, but he drops it. He knows Soonyoung will sleep, anyway. Humans can't stay awake forever. Soonyoung goes back to typing, sometimes letting his hands suspend over the keyboard and leaving his fingers to dangle in the air. Seokmin registers the two-degree rise of Soonyoung's body temperature.  
  
He escorts Seokmin down the hall, cup of his palm holding onto his elbow, and into his room, promising that he will sleep. Seokmin hears Soonyoung's heart beating hard and sweat starts to form from his hand, but Seokmin doesn't say anything. Soonyoung sometimes doesn't like it when Seokmin mentions it.  
  
\----  
  
5 January 2024; 13:52  
  
Seokmin pours 118 milliliters of foamed milk into Soonyoung's coffee, bringing his wrist around the rim of the mug to make sure it gets everywhere. "Your friends called you this morning and left a voicemail," he says, staring at the phone sitting at the corner, a lot closer to Seokmin than to Soonyoung.  
  
Soonyoung speaks only when he passes the mug across the counter. "Okay."  
  
"Can't you listen to just one? Because the memory in your phone is running out." Seokmin rinses the frother under running water, reminds himself that Soonyoung only has around fifty megabytes left on his phone.  
  
"Okay, fine."  
  
Seokmin recognizes Wonwoo's voice in an instant.  _Hey, Soonyoung. Mingyu and I are gonna go out and eat. Do you and Seokmin want to come?_  
  
He looks up at Soonyoung's voice, flat and groggy from waking up only an hour ago. "Do you want go to?"  
  
"Soonyoung," Seokmin goes his best to sigh. Just a dragging exhale from his nose, "Wonwoo sent that ten days ago."  
  
"Oh." Seokmin catches Soonyoung's eyes skittering away from his. Without glancing back at him, he would have thought that Soonyoung spits the next part with gritted teeth, hands balled in fists over the keyboard. "Well, I listened to one. Are you happy now?"  
  
"No, I'm not. I can't be."  
  
Keyboard smashes, or they're pretty close. Hard ticks into the void air and choking silence. "Not like I can go back in time."  
  
\----  
  
13 January 2024; 22:05  
  
"Does it really matter if I have a heart or not?" Seokmin whispers, watches Soonyoung open metal curves of his chest. Soonyoung's hands brush over and smear oil on the towel at his lap.  
  
"No," Soonyoung answers and brings his hand further inside Seokmin's chest. He feels Soonyoung stroke his fingers near the back. "It doesn't. Why do you ask?"  
  
"Because a heart is always what they say all humans have. It's where everyone says they feel things, but it's all in the brain. The only thing the heart does is oxidize and pump blood throughout the body. What exactly does the heart do to help you feel emotions?"  
  
Soonyoung shrugs with a click of Seokmin's chest shut. "I don't know, but you just..." His eyes start to focus on something far away in front of Seokmin, but he doesn't know what. Maybe he's confused, maybe he doesn't know himself. But Soonyoung is human also, so he waits for him to gather his thoughts, find an answer. "Your heart reacts with your emotions. If you're shocked, you would probably stop thinking straight and at the same time, your heart beats hard and fast. If you're excited, your heart beats lightly and fast."  
  
Seokmin pouts and he knows that he will never understand. "I guess I need a heart to know what that's like." Soonyoung's lips part and his hand reaches out for Seokmin's across his chest, but Seokmin continues. "What does your heart do when you're in love?"  
  
"In love?" Soonyoung confirms once.  
  
Seokmin sits up and does this thing called fiddling with his thumbs over his lap. He found Soonyoung doing this one time while waiting for one of his coworkers to test something out, part of a code that Soonyoung furbished all by himself. He thinks it's because Soonyoung is either bored or nervous, perhaps even both. "Yes, because that's also one thing they tell me I cannot feel."  
  
Soonyoung's head is a light nod in the air, sometimes like a bubble floating across the scene. "Well, I guess if you love someone and they love you back, you feel safe with them. Your heart beats softly because of them."  _Oh, that makes sense._  "Sometimes, your heart can beat too fast, and it all depends on why. A lot of things in love depend on why."  
  
Seokmin remembers someone telling him--it was Mingyu, at Wonwoo's birthday--that his heart was beating so fast when he held Wonwoo's hand for the first time. Mingyu once confessed to Seokmin that he was in love with Wonwoo before that. Does that mean that human hearts can beat fast, too, because of giving love, but not receiving it? "What if your heart beats fast when you're in love? Why does it do that?"  
  
"Maybe someone made you happy or excited. Sometimes, it doesn't take much for them to do that."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Soonyoung stares up at the ceiling this time, a swallow taking a thick way down his throat. "But maybe they made you nervous. It can be a good or bad nervous."  
  
"What's a good nervous?" Mingyu was probably feeling that at Wonwoo's birthday.  
  
Soonyoung takes a deep breath; he only does this when he's about to spit out a stumble of words in seconds. "Everyone says the day of the wedding." Soonyoung stops staring at the ceiling, his eyes going straight for his hand on his lap. "You're happy to marry the one you love, but at the same time, you don't want to ruin anything. You don't want to mess up saying vows or cry too much too soon. There's a lot of good-nervous."  
  
Seokmin smiles, pictures Soonyoung holding someone's hand and shying his face away from the person. "I hope you feel more of the good-nervous, Soonyoung."  
  
Soonyoung nods, but there's a sniffle at the end. "Thanks, Seokmin."  
  
He lifts a hand and latches his fingers on the white dress shirt Soonyoung has on. He pops the buttons right for him, leaves the first one open because he always finds Soonyoung fumbling to unbutton the top one pressing hard against his neck. Sometimes, the necktie comes home swinging undone. "Hey, it's been a while since I last saw you wearing a suit."  _It was the fifteenth of December,_ he reminds himself _._  "Twenty-nine days, to be exact."  
  
Soonyoung's head tilts to the side, down to the floor. "I have a meeting today, so yeah."  
  
\----  
  
18 January 2024; 12:45  
  
Soonyoung, for the first time in almost four months, suggests on taking a jog around the park, near the river. The jog is cut short when the pale of Soonyoung's cheeks shed off into more of a pink, scratchy pants wheezing from his lips. Even the rise of body temperature is a little concerning.  
  
Seokmin slows down his steps, takes Soonyoung's sweaty hand in his. His fingers try to pull away, but Seokmin keeps his grip on his fingers until Soonyoung's palm relaxes against his, fingers tightening a tad. "Do you want to sit down? You're sweating already." Seokmin brushes his other hand over Soonyoung's face, wipes his damp fringe away from his eyes. "You're sweating already."  
  
"Shut up," Soonyoung mutters before leading Seokmin through a path down to the river. "I'm okay. Let's go."  
  
"Your body temperature went up to thirty-seven degrees Celsius." Soonyoung can handle another walk back to their apartment, Seokmin is sure of it. "We can stop now and just walk."  
  
  
Soonyoung tells Seokmin about the messages all over his phone from Wonwoo and Mingyu, about a peaceful cafe nearby the river. That they should, for once, drop by when the couple are actually inside.  
  
The chalkboard sign at the front door greets them first before the bell of the shop, before Soonyoung's friends.  
  
_Please be considerate; please do not discriminate between humans and androids. Thank you and have a nice day!_  
  
Mingyu and Wonwoo poke at the air towards the menu at the front of the cafe, and Mingyu almost smacks Wonwoo's nose when the younger's eyes catch on Soonyoung. "Long time no see," rings loud into the cafe, and Wonwoo slaps his palm over half of his face and smiles into it. Seokmin and Soonyoung slip into the seats across from the couple, and Soonyoung plucks a small square menu from the stand at the end of their table.  
  
Seokmin watches Mingyu tip his head back in laughter at some story told between the three, something that he hasn't seen in a while. In fact, the last time he saw that was when Soonyoung was watching a movie that was labeled as a family comedy, but he later found him at that same hour bawling into his blankets on the couch. Perhaps it's the type of laughter that Soonyoung never taught him how to do, never had the time to code it for him. He doesn't know what's so funny about Mingyu walking into a lamppost--he thinks it's rather worrisome because he could have been hurt--so he stays quiet.  
  
Soonyoung's hand finds a way down to Seokmin's and it's his warm thumb over knuckles that keeps him from staring at one barista at the front of the cafe.  
  
The conversations jolt to a standstill, all at once, when Seokmin's shoulders drop a slight at the palm on his shoulder and a smile from the barista.

  
  
00:19  
  
Soonyoung's typing sounds more like trying to figure out how hard he can press on the keys without snapping his laptop. "You're pressing on the keys harder than usual, Soonyoung."  
  
"As long as I'm typing, it's fine." Which makes no sense. If his keyboard broke because of his keyboard smashing, then he wouldn't be able to type. His company would get angry at him for not finishing whatever code he was assigned.  
  
  
When Seokmin lies down for an oil change, there's a soft drum of Soonyoung's fingertips on his chest, hollow beats through metal and flesh. He knows this is something that babies would fall asleep to, something soft and reassuring that can help them through the struggle of fitful slumbers. He listens to his chest starting to hum a whirring fan and he closes his eyes.  
  
\----  
  
15 February 2024; 13:29  
  
Soonyoung leaves the apartment after Seokmin finishes buttoning his dress shirt again, after fixing the pale blue necktie under his throat. Soonyoung's black car fades into the gray of the streets and he waits one, two minutes before grabbing his own keys, locking the apartment, and heading down to the garage.  
  
  
Seokmin pushes the shopping cart around and steers himself away from the ramen section and towards the small flower corner of the grocery store. He pulls the first bouquet of blue and gold, with even a hint of pink peeking through petals, and lays it gently on the seat of the cart. He hurries over to the back, where cold shelves of tofu line up before him. He takes two boxes of tofu, each with a different brand but molds the same firmness, and squeezes the pack a little.  
  
Soonyoung doesn't exactly like extra firm tofu because he said he feels as if he's biting into jello. He tilts his head to he side to read down other levels of firmness of the tofu when he catches someone looking at him. He turns his head to the kids at the end of the aisle and waves a limp hand at them.  
  
He watches one snicker before he hears a, "Do you think his skin is made up of the dead one?"  
  
Seokmin turns back to the shelf and tells him to forget about it and never tell Soonyoung.  
  
He stands waiting at the register, calculating the total and pulling out the right amount of cash from his wallet. He feels a finger poke the back of his arm and he catches long hair trying to duck down and scurry away.  
  
  
At home, Seokmin organizes everything in the kitchen--vegetables in the drawer of the fridge, milk in the bottom shelf, flowers in a vase in the middle of the kitchen counter, snacks next to Soonyoung.  
  
"Do you want me to cook you anything before you go to your meeting?"  
  
Soonyoung shakes his head, tells him to get ready to recharge after putting away groceries. He doesn't tell Soonyoung that six o'clock still hasn't passed the moon.  
  
\----  
  
16 February 2024; 05:33  
  
The morning routine breaks off when Soonyoung's raspy voice calls for Seokmin, steps so close to his bedroom door. "Hey, Seokmin." Seokmin's hand rests on the handle as he turns back to Soonyoung. "Can you make coffee for Jihoon?"  
  
Seokmin nods and remembers how Jihoon likes his coffee. The last time he made coffee for Jihoon was when Soonyoung was stuck on  _some part of this project's code. I don't know how he did it, but his code worked a lot smoother than mine and we both need a cup or two for the morning._  "Yeah, sure," is a lot closer to a breath than an actual audible answer.  
  
Sometimes, Seokmin says that Jihoon could be the one for Soonyoung; the one who Soonyoung gets good-nervous over. He knows Jihoon is usually the last one to leave their late-night meetings at each other's apartments. Soonyoung always mentions how Jihoon helps clean up the apartment after a productive session. And besides, Jihoon is the only other person Soonyoung asks him to make coffee for.  
  
Jihoon holds the manager title at the cafe they visit frequently, the one residing by the river. So when Soonyoung once patted his back with a proud smile and told him that Jihoon likes his coffee, he tells himself that his coffee must be really good. It would be even better if Soonyoung can learn to make this coffee for Jihoon someday.  
  
Soonyoung tells him that Seokmin just doesn't make it the traditional way, relying on just sticking the milk frother after pouring a shot of milk into the espresso and letting it bubble up, swirl soft milk flavor with strong, bitter black.  
  
  
Scatters of papers across the entire apartment sends Seokmin back and forth in every room, tidying each corner and clearing all cracks, picking up dirt and lints and specks of wrappers on the floors before vacuuming. He wipes down the windows, dusts off the blinds, and switches the blinds into pastel yellow curtains. He yanks the bed sheets right off and exchanges them for a fresh set that's been sitting in the closet.  
  
He jogs to the cafe next.  
  
And instead of buying something sweet, he buys black coffee. He stays at the usual spot besides the window and under the tree and watches Junhui walk back and forth between the register and the espresso machine. Sometimes, the barista would laugh as he wipes some mugs and the sound from his lips reminds him so human, something so far off from Seokmin's. He tells himself that Jihoon coded him well.  
  
All thoughts collapse on the spot when Junhui catches his eyes, lifts a corner of his lips, and waves with stacks of mugs on his arms.  
  
\----  
  
17 February 2024; 10:12  
  
The name that flashes into morning air doesn't bring back many memories. Actually, it takes a while for Seokmin to match a face with the name because it's been months since he last hard anything about Boo Seungkwan.  
  
"You got a voicemail from Seungkwan," Seokmin mumbles. All he knows about Seungkwan is that he is one of Soonyoung's friends who told him to get rid of Seokmin, to never continue him, let him never be finished. A hesitant smile of Seungkwan would greet Seokmin before turning his head away. Seokmin told himself to never forget it; Soonyoung told him to forgive the kid.  
  
_Hey, Soonyoung. It's a nice day to go to the beach, so if you want to come, call me back. You don't have to drive._  A soft laugh breaks the words.  _I'll make Vernon drive the way there, and I'll drive the way back home. See you soon, hopefully._  
  
Soonyoung never dragged Seokmin to the beach before. All Seokmin knows about beaches are white sand sticking into toenails, a light gust of wind that flits the hems of shirts just right, cold waters clinging onto salt. It's all information Soonyoung fed him, an opportunity to go out and find out if all of what he said is true laid out just in front of him, but Soonyoung shakes his head.  
  
\----  
  
18 February 2024; 06:44  
  
Soonyoung wakes him up later than usual after getting him to recharge a couple of hours later too, leaves him more drained after a barely full-night's charge. Sixteen minutes of electricity through him would have given him a full battery, but Seokmin doesn't say anything. He stays silent at the gentle hand on his ribs, Soonyoung's palm warming up at the center.  
  
"Happy first birthday, Seokmin," Soonyoung whispers.  
  
Seokmin places a hand over Soonyoung's, smiles at the side of his face pressing into his chest. He runs his fingers through Soonyoung's hair. "Thanks, Soonyoung."  
  
"Is there anything you want to do?"  
  
"I want to go to the beach." Seokmin squeezes his hand. "We didn't go to the beach with Seungkwan and Vernon, so I want to go today. To see the beach."  
  
  
People tell him that his face would hurt if he smiled a lot--that is, if he is human. His lips would have been knocked right off when he realized that all of what Soonyoung told him about beaches is true. The flirt of the wind through his cardigan, sand and seashell shards sneaking under his toes.  
  
He watched on the television once of this man who took his wife's hand and ran through the sand together. It may be a little cold for a human, but Soonyoung agrees to do it, anyway. But his steps halt when Seokmin hears a rumble of groans, turns to look down at the flats of Soonyoung's feet burning red. So Seokmin simply picks him up and carries him out to the water.  
  
Soonyoung slides an arm around Seokmin's back and his other arm hangs from his neck and he's laughing. It's the laugh where Soonyoung's throat releases it all out, his entire voice bubbling through his lips that he knocks his head back and his laugh lays louder against the wind, against the cracks of waves against rocks. This is Seokmin's first memory of a laugh like this from Soonyoung and he tells himself to store this forever.  
  
  
Sand sprinkles across the bathtub like rain, so Seokmin sits at the edge of the tub with Soonyoung between his legs and bubbles in Soonyoung's hair. Muscles relax under Seokmin's fingers and knees. Soonyoung sighs low and dragging.  
  
"You have so much sand in your hair, Soonyoung," Seokmin chuckles and flicks the sand off his fingernails.  
  
"Shut up. You made me lie down in the sand with you."  
  
\----  
  
1 March 2024; 02:56  
  
At this hour, Seokmin should be charging, but there's a question that struggles to stay at the tip of his tongue. So he waits for Soonyoung to return home from his meeting at Wonwoo's apartment. When Soonyoung enters through the door, he doesn't scold Seokmin.  
  
It's a quiet and hollow, "You're still up?" that fills the front door after his smile. Seokmin pulls off his bag from his back and jacket swaying on his shoulder and sets them on the kitchen counter.  
  
  
Seokmin would watch Soonyoung get ready for bed at this time of night, but Soonyoung pulls out his laptop and heads straight for his room. When he follows through the door, Soonyoung opens up his laptop, restarts pixels back to life, and continues the meeting at his home with long scrolls of code.  
  
He pulls a chair next to Soonyoung and it's so close that their arms brush. "Hey, Soonyoung?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"If humans have a heart, then why do some humans call other humans heartless?"  
  
Soonyoung stops typing, his fingers stuck at something after  _return result;_  then settling down on his lap. "Where did you get that idea?"  
  
He scowls and recalls the news from this morning. Above the news anchor recollecting the events of that morning's rush hour, harsh flashes of the camera and yelling muffles the father explaining what he said was everything. "I watched the news while you were at the meeting. And everyone was calling this man heartless for leaving his daughter alone in a train station."  
  
\----  
  
27 March 2024; 11:38  
  
Junhui doesn't wave at him today. He doesn't look at him at all after watching Jihoon's lips forming angry words against the barista.  
  
"Junhui seems so real," Seokmin whispers, "like you."  
  
\----  
  
15 September 2024; 03:17  
  
Seokmin rubs Soonyoung's back, white dress shirt with a smear of sweat down the spine, as he vomits into the toilet. Sobs blur Soonyoung's words--something about  _how can they schedule it so soon?_ ,  _I'm not-I can't do this_. Seokmin takes a towel folded in the cabinet under the sink and wipes the sweat beading curves down his forehead and jaw.  
  
It's when Soonyoung's head starts to sway over the toilet bowl that Seokmin leans over to flush the toilet. He closes the toilet seat down and keeps firm hands at Soonyoung's arms to help him up and onto the toilet cover. Seokmin grabs the plastic cup from the side of the sink and fills it with water, brings the rim to Soonyoung's lips and tells him to rinse his mouth. Soonyoung's eyes bleed black more than red in the veins and they blink slowly, so slowly that sometimes he stares onto a single flutter of lashes and Seokmin would have thought he fell asleep right there and then.  
  
Seokmin holds onto his chin softly in his fingers and tells Soonyoung to open his mouth, to let him brush his teeth for him. When Soonyoung finishes the final rinse, Seokmin takes a new towel, damp with warm water, and wipes his face, the back of his neck. Sometimes, the water isn't enough and Seokmin is pretty sure that it's Soonyoung's tears that he's swiping the towel with.  
  
Soonyoung's eyes never leave Seokmin and if Seokmin wasn't washing Soonyoung, he would have stared right at him. He kneels in front of Soonyoung, cold metal plates on cold tiles, and cups his face in his hands. Soonyoung continues to cry as he leans forward and presses his forehead onto Seokmin's shoulder. He wraps an arm around Soonyoung's back and another under his knees and carries him to his room.  
  
He pulls Soonyoung's clothes one by one--careful tugs of the pressed and now wrinkled black slacks down his legs, unbuttons his dress shirt slowly and brushes the sleeves off his arms. With minimal movement, sometimes just rocking to one side of the mattress, Seokmin fits him in sweatpants and one of his over-sized soft shirts Soonyoung keeps at his closet for some reason.  
  
  
He lies down with Soonyoung, holds him tight and pats a comforting rhythm on his back until he knows Soonyoung is asleep. The red light on his wrist tells him that he needs to find some way to charge in less than ten minutes, so he uncurls Soonyoung's hands from the bottom hem of his shirt and heads for his room at the end of the dark hall.  
  
\----  
  
4 November 2024; 07:00  
  
Seokmin wakes up with Soonyoung lying right next to him with his hand on his chest--albeit, sweaty on his own once he sneaks his palm to his, despite the cold weather outside. He takes his hand anyway, even squeezes it harder, because he knows how much Soonyoung finds it reassuring to have a hand to hold.  
  
"It's time to visit my work," is an empty whisper into his room.  
  
  
"Your hands are sweaty. You'll probably lose grip of the steering wheel," Seokmin says when they haven't breached a kilometer away from the apartment. He catches the shaky leg pressing into the brake, the bite of his lips between hesitant teeth where he can still detect dry rips, even dryer attempts at opening his mouth and speaking. He slips a hand around Soonyoung's wrist on the steering wheel, but he shakes it right off. "And you're nervous. Let me drive so that we don't get into an accident."  
  
Soonyoung's words drag out slow and dreadful. "They will watch you very closely. They'll have tablets out to record everything you do. They want to see your reaction to everything and anything." Seokmin settles his hands to his lap, thumbs poking at each other. Who will be watching him? Why would they want to observe his reaction? "You'll be put in a room, I actually don't know what will be in the room, but they will ask you questions, tell you to do things, I don't know what, but they just want to see how much you can do."  
  
Will it just be him with some stranger in the room? Or perhaps someone who Soonyoung has bleed sleepless nights with behind blinding screens? Will it be someone who Soonyoung once warned about? Are Junhui and Jeonghan being observed alongside him? "Will there be other androids in there, too?"  
  
"Yeah, but they won't be in the same room as you."  
  
So in other words, no android will be there.  
  
"Will you be in the room with me?"  
  
Soonyoung shakes his head. "No, I won't. I can't be there."  
  
  
Before even entering through the metal gates, Seokmin catches cameras hanging from the edges to scan Soonyoung's license plate. After a beep and a green light subsiding the camera lens, the gates open up in a low groan. Walking past the security guards, Seokmin holds onto Soonyoung's hands, absorbs the perspiration trying to fling right off. He stares at the doors lining up equidistant from each other, numbers flashing above the door handles.  
  
Everything steers a dull white, gray, and black, and it's a complete juxtaposition of the Soonyoung sometimes hidden at the corners of his metal heart. Everything is tall, gray, and drab. Lifeless and repetitive, something he can't match a single syllable when describing Soonyoung.  
  
  
09:45  
  
The room that the woman in a white coat guides Seokmin to is white and blank, empty and silent, let alone a white metal table against the wall and two metal chairs that holds no cushions. Not a single speck of rust breaching into surfaces.  
  
The door behind him clicks open and he turns his head, scans in a woman in a suit, hair falling straight down. The red of her lipstick smears a fragment at the corner of her lips and her forefinger nail has the same tint at the edge. Perhaps her lip was itchy before stepping inside.  
  
"I will be testing you today, Seokmin." She takes the seat at the other side of the table and continues, "First, I'll be asking you questions. You can answer them in full sentences or short phrases. It goes through a pretty broad range of topics. The world to this country to maybe even this city. The people you see on television and on the sidewalk to Soonyoung or Junhui. After that, I'll ask you to do some tasks. They're easy stuff; I just want to grade your abilities to perform them. Lastly, I'll show you pictures and videos and I will see how much they affect you. Is everything clear? Is there anything you would like me to repeat?"  
  
"No, everything is clear," Seokmin says.  
  
"What is the name of the planet we live on?"  
  
"Earth. It is Earth."  
  
"How old is Kwon Soonyoung?"  
  
"Twenty-eight years, four months, and nineteen days old."  
  
"How long have you known Kwon Soonyoung?"  
  
"When was Korea divided into two separate countries?"  
  
"Is Wen Junhui an android or human?"  
  
A string of questions stuffs answers into his mouth, but the one answer to this question sticks behind his tongue. He thinks back to the cafe, to the chalkboard that tells him to do the complete opposite. "Android."  
  
He watches the woman swipe her stylus back and forth across the screen before a few taps, scribbles, and a click of the nub back inside the plastic. "I'll start with the tasks now. Can you please stand up and step behind your chair?" Seokmin does as he is instructed to do and even pushes his chair in. When she instructs him to sit back down, she flattens three pieces of paper on the table and it takes a sharp corner's shadow from under the sheet to distinguish the table from paper. She places a black pen on the table before picking up her own stylus. "Please write your name."  
  
_Lee Seokmin_  at the top.  
  
"Please write Soonyoung's name."  
  
_Kwon Soonyoung_  right under.  
  
"Please write your address."  
  
"Please solve this arithmetic problem. Write it out as I tell you."  
  
"I'll finish off today's examination with your reactions." A screen emerges from the wall in front of him and flickers on, cuts through static and straight into the news of a country he has never heard of going into a war with another across the ocean. The lights turn off in an instant and the blood across the screen brandishes the room a dark red. Seokmin nods along to the news reporter explaining the diplomatic relationships between both nations, sighs at something about a break in trust that releases the knot to tying one of the strongest international bonds the world would have witnessed.  
  
Seokmin asks the woman what made the two countries break apart, but she stares at the screen.  
  
The monitor fades out and into a picture of Mingyu pouring steamed milk into a mug of espresso. Wonwoo smiles with a crinkle of his nose off to the side of the counter, waist leaning into the jutting edge of granite. He recognizes the familiar chalkboard at the corner of the picture and a smile melts right into his face. The cafe opens up to Soonyoung's laughter with his friends.  
  
The following picture shoots into a shot of black, leaves spotlight pouring onto someone in a lonely stage. The bumps lining the bottom edge of the screen are not from people in the audience, but unoccupied seats of an empty theater. Seokmin's smile disappears; he can't recall ever seeing Soonyoung on stage before. If Soonyoung ever graced a hair strand on stage, Seokmin would be in the audience watching him, even if he was the only one in the crowd. Did this company, the one who drills Soonyoung into oblivion for a new string of code, edit this picture?  
  
He watches Soonyoung across the stage, sharp swipes of his hands into the air and swift kicks of his feet off the floor, a smirk teetering on his lips before his eyes harden and there's a tint of limelight his eyes stole at the corner of his pupils. The song slows down and so do his movements. Lyrics start to fade into the mute, mere static of speakers thrown between hushed whispers, and Soonyoung sinks to the ground one dragging second at a time. It's a slow, almost pillow-like descent onto the floor of the stage, but the audience rises when the lights go out.  
  
He recognizes Seokmin's face in a small group behind the curtains. He hands a bouquet of flowers to Soonyoung and he looks far off from the screen before their arms touch in an embrace. He searches somewhere in this blank room. He can't recall any of this happening; Soonyoung never even  _hinted_  him that he dances, used to dance. When the walls console nothing to him, he turns back to the screen, to some date six years ago.  
  
He's lying down--sleeping, actually--in plush white. The date on the video tells him it's from three, almost four years ago. He places a hand over his chest and his palm absorbs in heat. It's too hot for his system to handle, and he blames his inability to calculate the exact number of months and days since the videos and pictures he watches on the screen imprint into physical memory. A glimpse of of Soonyoung flashes on the screen, in a black dress suit and slacks. The black handkerchief trembles in his hands. He notices Mingyu hugging him.  
  
The screen pulls back into the wall and he hears the screech of a chair.  
  
"Seokmin, you are done with your observation. Thank you for your time."  
  
  
12:21  
  
It makes no sense. The possibility that Seokmin clings onto is impeccable editing from the company. There's no way he was there himself for Soonyoung six years ago when he is barely two years old.  
  
"How did the exam go?"  
  
"They just asked me a lot of questions. I even watched the news." It's not entirely a lie; the first video was for news of a fictional country that the company threw in all together. Was that crazy editing, too? The back of his neck heats up at his attempts to not answer Soonyoung's recollection of other androids there. He barely deciphers the words to "almost fell asleep while watching Junhui make coffee," "Jeonghan had to build a table out of snow and completely tricked the examiners there."

  
\----  
  
7 November 2024; 15:36  
  
Seokmin spent the next days staring out of the window of his room, still trying to figure out how the company did it. He notices that Soonyoung stopped talking to him, but Seokmin lets it go.  
  
It's when Soonyoung steps into his room with weak knocks at his door and sits down on his bed that everything combusts faster than his own system.  
  
"What exactly happened during the exam?" Soonyoung asks so quietly, in a voice that has Seokmin wondering what did he do wrong to hear a new voice of his that sounds so distant from the Soonyoung he learned the past two years.  
  
Seokmin opens his mouth to answer, runs through the entire examination from start but it doesn't finish. He never finishes it. When he is about to get into the first picture of Soonyoung alone on stage, the back of his neck warms up again. His hand twitches under Soonyoung's hold and he watches the back of Soonyoung's palm trying to press on to his forehead. Barely a brush of his fingertips sends the hand zipping back and fanning it out. His face contorts into a mix of something like anger, confusion. Scrunches of his eyebrows and a frown on his face, but a glint of concern washes it all right off.  
  
Seokmin thinks he has done something wrong when Soonyoung pulls him into his car.  
  
Seokmin thinks he has done something wrong when Soonyoung speeds past the cars with tight jaws, occasional wipes of his palms against his eyes.  
  
Seokmin thinks he has done something wrong when Soonyoung carries him into the first floor of his work because he just can't stand anymore.  
  
Seokmin thinks he has done something wrong when it's not Soonyoung opening up his chest this time, but an entire team behind rubber gloves and face masks covering everything but their eyes.  
  
Seokmin knows he has done something wrong when he thinks that he might not be the first Seokmin that Soonyoung knows, after whisper of, "I can't do this all over again, Seokmin."  
  
\----  
  
10 November 2024; 23:11  
  
Seokmin knocks on Soonyoung's door; it would be a lot better to ask him instead of waiting for Soonyoung to ask him and probably send him back to his workplace under a set of a stranger's tools and bright lights. His lips form the words, but nothing comes out. Soonyoung turns in his chair and raises his eyebrows, waits for Seokmin to say anything.  
  
Seokmin's voice hollows out into the walls. "Will you dance for me?" Soonyoung's eyes start to flood at the rims, but he lets himself take hold of this entire conversation. "I know it's been a long time, but I just want to see."  
  
Soonyoung's lips are caught in a a question and it takes a while for him to chase it back. "How did you know?"  
  
His head turns for the door he left open, in case his system decides to heat up again. But he can't lie to Soonyoung; he can't force himself to not answer him one more time. "When we went to your company, when they examined me, they showed me an old picture and video from years ago. Before you even made me."  
  
Soonyoung falls back into the seat and stares at his hands on his thighs. Seokmin almost steps back when the wheels of his chair rumble across hardwood, and he watches Soonyoung dance. He notices the juts of hesitation, the light scrunch of Soonyoung's eyebrows because he didn't stretch for this. In the midst of it all, a tear falls right on the spot Soonyoung lifts his foot on. Seokmin times his steps, matches the flow of the performance in the video to the one right before him.  
  
It builds up to the part where Soonyoung gently sets himself down on the floor, a slow glide of his entire body down in defeat. But when Soonyoung lets his body drop, he lets his knees bang against the floor and the sound would have probably hurt Seokmin more than Soonyoung. Seokmin hurries over to him when he lets his entire body fall forward and cry on his knees, slams a fist straight to the floor.  
  
Seokmin gathers all he can of Soonyoung into his arms, sets him right on his lap, and rocks him back and forth. Soonyoung's fingers dig into the fabric of Seokmin's clothes at his chest, pulling down the hem and letting his breaths ghost at the base of Seokmin's neck.  
  
Soonyoung's face presses right onto the side of Seokmin's neck and his mutters slur with the sobs. "I wanted to wait. It's too soon, so soon. I can't believe they forced you to see it."  
  
Seokmin hugs Soonyoung tighter, brings his lips against Soonyoung's forehead, and tells him that it's okay, that he will still be here.

**Author's Note:**

> so i wrote another part for the fic because the full lyrics of where the titles are from [(Emologue by Epik High)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3PZWFDo-4DI) is "the brain's demotion for the heart's promotion: emotion" and i thought it would be pretty neato to do something about the second part of the lyrics so here it is. also, when i first started planning this fic out, i had a hard time deciding whose pov i wanted to do this on so why not both?? :D  
> i'd like to apologize because writing this fic was kind of painful and bland because of how to-the-point the writing style is this time but seokmin is an android here, so that's one reason why...  
> 


End file.
